Your Hearts In A Headlock
by StarlingStorm
Summary: Two Decades after the fall, Russia still feels alone. Driving home late on the eve of his sister's birthday he hits America. Russia soon finds out that he has taken something vital from the young nation, and if it isn't restored, the whole world changes.
1. Chapter 1

Funny how things worked out.

Like how the fall of the Tsars for better life brought on more death and unhappiness.

Like how the fall of communism left him with nobody who cared.

And just like how the day he hit America who stumbled in a disarrayed state into the street, that the young nation would end up losing something more important and vital than anything Russia had ever possessed.

He should have expected it. But in all truth, he hadn't.

Funny how things didn't work out.

August 25th, 2010

The meeting with his leader had gone far longer than it was supposed to. So when Russia quickly grabbed his coat and hurried to the parking lot, his mind was revolving around one thing. His sister's birthday. That is, her independence from him. He already had the white frosted cake in the backseat that his dear sister Katyusha had requested for Natalya, and of course her birthday gift. But all would be lost if he missed it. He missed Natalya's birthday last year due to a internal crisis and he felt horrible. She understood that his job came first for him, but that didn't stop him from seeing the flash of sadness (disappointment) in her eyes.

He started up the engine and instantly turned the heat on in the car. Outside it was pouring down rain, and with the thunderstorm it brought along a cold front. He pulled out swiftly and exited the parking garage, headed for home where the party was to be. The Party. Could it be called that with only just three people? Russia was fine with that, but he worried over his sister, if she wanted someone else there. She smiled and shook her head no and assured him it should be a 'family' thing. But Russia saw the lie in her eyes. She didn't dare try to invite anyone, for she knew that once they knew he was there, they would make up some excuse as to why they couldn't come.

His headlights lit up the deserted streets as he drove over the speed limit, quick to get home. It was late, half past eleven, and he still had a few blocks to go before he reached his apartment complex. He really hoped to make it in time. Because this time, for the first time in two decades, someone would be waiting for him.

Just a block from his house it happened. The windshield wipers beat furiously against the heavy downpour but it was still hard to see. He wasn't too concerned since no one would be walking the streets this late at night in Moscow. Or, so he thought.

From the corner of his eye he caught movement but by the time he locked on, it was too late. Russia cursed out as his foot slammed on the brakes in reflex, and to his horror his car went into a hydroplane. Summer sky blue eyes met his for a split second before he made impact. The person he hit was tossed into the air and flung off to the side, hitting the sidewalk. Russia had his face slammed into the steering wheel before gravity pulled him back. The airbags never deployed. The car finally skidded to a stop.

Russia took a few calming breaths and did a mental check of his body. Aside from the nasty bruise his nose and forehead would feature for a few hours, he appeared to be okay. Russia looked up into the rearview mirror. The tangled limbs of what looked to be a broken marionette, however, looked far from okay. Russia stiffly got out of his car and started walking over to poor soul he hit. If he was human, he was most likely dead. Russia froze as the new memory of a pair of blue eyes flashed across his eyes. But if he was…..no, that wasn't possible. Russia ran the last few feet and stopped just above the crumpled body.

His eyes locked on to the back of the persons head and he froze.

Golden yellow hair. Like his precious Sunflowers that filled his house in vases and in his garden his sister, Katyusha helped him with.

With trembling hands, Russia knelt down and reached a hand out to carefully turn over the man he ran over. He let out a gasp and pulled back. Besides one cheek being scraped up from the asphalt, it was undeniably him.

"America." Russia whispered out.

Russia glanced around the silent street. No other living soul was about. Russia leaned over and quickly checked America. Four broken ribs, a broken leg and various cuts and scrapes, but other than that, he was fine, and since he was a nation he would heal within a matter of days. Russia went back to his car to fetch the crochet blanket he had in the back and bundled the younger nation carefully up in it.

It wasn't until he had America lying in the back seat and pulling alongside his house for the questions to float through his conscious.

Why was America in Russia? Why a block away from his house? Was he going to meet him?

Why did he smile as he was hit?

Russia made it to his door fine but realized with a sinking heart he would have to reveal his accident to his sisters sooner than he would have liked. He barely managed to ring the doorbell since both hands were pre-occupied with carrying America. He then took a step back as he heard voices approaching the door.

"Vanya! Where have you been-"Ukraine cried out but cut off when she noticed who Russia was holding. "Mr. America?"

Russia stepped into the warm house and Ukraine closed the door. She quickly came around and stared anxiously at her brother.

"Vanya, what happened?"

Russia gave a sigh and shifted America in his arms. "I will tell you in a moment, dear sister, but could you please first get Natalya's gifts? They are in the trunk of my car."

Ukraine gave a nod, "Your keys?"

Russia walked into his small sitting room and lay America down on the couch before reaching into his pocket and fetched his keys. He handed them over with a weary smile and watched his sister leave the room.

"Big Brother?"

Russia looked over to see the birthday girl step tentatively around the wall and stop just short of the plush carpet. Natalya's eyes knitted in confusion trailed behind him until they widened as they landed on the prone figure of America.

"America? What on earth?"

Just then Ukraine came back inside the house, cake held carefully in both hands while the present dangled from her wrist in a bag.

"Sisters, come in and have a seat please." Russia gestured toward the other couch, a warm velvet red with plush pillows adorning needlework sunflowers.

Ukraine and Belarus obediently sat down and locked eyes on their brother as he went to stand at the end of the occupied couch on the other side.

"How to start…" Russia ran a hand through his hair and then brought it down to clutch his scarf. A habit he developed as a child when he got nervous. Ukraine shifted a bit and opened her mouth to help.

"I noticed the dent in the front of your car. Did Mr. America accidentally hit your car with his?"

Russia glanced behind him to stare at the knocked out nation and cleared his throat. "Umm, no. I hit him...as he was walking across the street."

Ukraine let out a breath and brought one hand to her chest, over her heart.

"Oh my gosh! Is he going to be all right?"

Russia turned to look back at his sisters and noticed Belarus had not yet said a word.

"He has a few broken ribs-"Ukraine gasped and brought the hand up over her mouth, "and a broken leg." Russia cursed himself mentally for not attending that right away.

"Katyusha, do you mind helping me fix his leg up?"

Ukraine gave a vigorous nod of her head and immediately stood up and left the room to go and get binding. Russia nervously looked back at Belarus and was surprised to see her glaring at him.

"Why did you bring him here?" She hissed out in anger.

"Natalya! I couldn't just leave him on the sidewalk." Russia bit back. Belarus snapped her mouth shut and looked off to the side just as Ukraine hurried back into the room with the necessary supplies.

"I-I brought antibiotics for his cuts as well as the binding." Ukraine handed over the binding and set down the antibiotics on the coffee table off to the side.

Russia nodded in thanks and then set to work on unbundling the American and straightening him out. Thankfully the couch was longer than he was. Russia worked on un-buttoning America's plaid red and white shirt. He swallowed back a wave of nausea. Underneath the shirt, America's (beautiful) sun-kissed tan skin was now a tie-dyed effect of blues and purples with a speck or two of green. Ukraine moved forward and trailed her hands down his chest making sure the ribs were in their right place so they wouldn't have to shift them.

"He's good brother. His leg next?" Ukraine softly laid her hand over Russia's shaking one and gave him a warm smile.

Russia managed a small smile back before turning to start work on cutting America's pants. After he made the cut down the length, he was greeted with a swelled leg covered in bruises. He grimaced and trailed his fingers gently over America's calf. He had broken his tibia bone and unfortunately it had become displaced. He would have to carefully move the bone back into place.

Russia's eyes raised up to stare at America's face. He was still out but he wasn't sure if he would stay that way when he moved the bone back in place.

"Katyusha? Please hold his hands and chest down in case he wakes."

Ukraine bit her lip but did as she was told, glancing nervously between Russia and America. Russia took a deep breath, braced his hands, and quickly snapped the leg back into place.

Not even a twitch.

Russia exhaled and moved out of the way for Ukraine to begin binding the leg. That was both a relief and unnerving. It showed signs of something more serious being wrong. Russia walked over to his other younger sister and kissed the top of her head.

"Forgive me, Natalya, for ruining your special day."

Belarus pouted and looked away. But a small blush lingered in her cheeks, and Russia knew he had been.

August 26th, 2010

Sleeping

August 27th, 2010

Sleeping

August 28th, 2010

Sleeping. Ukraine starts to become very worried and tells Russia to call her once America wakes. She and Belarus have to leave for home, leaving Russia all alone again.

August 29th, 2010

Why? Nations have never slept for so long before. Is America in a coma? A stab of pain shoots through Russia and guilt maws away at his insides.

August 30th, 2010

Russia is awoken at one am to piercing cries. He rushes out of his room in only his boxers and races downstairs to where America lay tossing and turning on the couch. He crouches down and grips America's tear-streaked cheeks and whispers nothings in Russian to him. America does not wake, and by the time America stops moving at all, Russia's guilt has completely eaten away at him until he is now the one crying in the dark.

August 31st, 2010

Russia sits up in his bed and stares blankly down at his sheets. He has not slept once. Too afraid something would happen. Or that something would not. He blindly gets up and shoves a rumpled red t-shirt on from a pile of clean clothes he has not bothered to put away yet. He makes his way downstairs and heads straight for the kitchen to make some tea. He freezes when he hears the sound of crying. Another nightmare? Russia pours himself a cup of tea and pads across the cherry-wood floor and out into the living room.

His fingers tighten for a second before letting go. The mug shatters on the floor and America looks up startled.

America is awake.

Big blue eyes (the color he wishes his cloudy-Moscow sky would be) spill an endless trail of tears. He is huddled up, still on the couch, with his knees brought up to his chin and arms wrapped around. He looks terrified, and that is unsettling. America never shows his fear of anything, to anyone for that matter. Russia opens his mouth, tempted to say something, anything, but America beats him to it.

"Who are you?"

Shock rips through Russia and he takes a step back. America whimpers and looks about the room.

"Where am I? Who are you?"

Russia would think this is just another game, one amid the hundreds they played during the Cold War, but looking into America's eyes, he knew for a fact it was not. And if so, then what did America remember?


	2. Chapter 2

**August 31st, 2010**

Russia reached a tentative hand out and stepped forward. America flinched slightly and gripped his knees tighter.

"Wh-Who are you!"

"My name is Russia, and you are America. Remember?" Russia stated as calmly as he could. His eyes widened when he saw America scrunch his eyes shut and immediately bring his hands up to cover his ears.

"America! What's wrong?"

Russia rushed forward and grabbed America's hands. The younger nation's eyes snapped open and he flung his hand out, smacking Russia on the face.

"Don't touch me!"

"Ame-"

"And don't say that! You're causing my head to hurt!" America cried out, scrambling off to the other side of the couch.

Russia froze again. Calling Alfred America made his head hurt? Why on earth would it do that? Does saying his own name have the same effect? What about the other countries names?

"A-Alfred? What do you remember?" Russia sat down on the other side of the couch.

America looked up and pointed a finger out at him. "That! I remember my name!" He sounded excited but still scared.

Russia gave a small smile. That was a good start. "Anything else?"

America scrunched up his eyebrows in thought and tilted his head. After a few minutes of frustrated chirps, America shook his head and tears began to well up in the corners of his eyes.

"No! No…I don't know….I don't know." America wailed, rocking back and forth slightly. He looked repeatedly over at Russia and bit his lip while the tears poured down. It was as if he wanted to-

Oh.

Oh!

Russia turned his body to face America's and held out his arms. A huge look of relief flashed across the young nations face and he flung himself into the others arms. Russia wrapped them tightly around America and began to rock him.

"Don't worry Ame-Alfred. We will get this sorted out." Russia gives America a reassuring pat.

America looked up and tilted his head again. "Who's we?"

"'We' as in me and your other friends and family." Russia says awkwardly.

America's eyes brightened a bit, "I have family!"

"In a sense, yes." Russia chuckles.

"I see…." America mumbled, not seeing it at all. "What's your name?"

Russia was jolted out of his thoughts when a hand began tugging his hair.

"Earth to violet eyes?"

"What?" Russia met America's bright blue gaze.

"I said, what's your name?"

An idea started to form in Russia's mind and he grinned to himself. America looked puzzled and Russia smiled sweetly down at him and combed his fingers through the boy's golden locks.

"My name is Ivan Braginski."

**September 1st, 2010**

"Will you come by today, big sister?" Russia whispered into the phone, cradling it against his ear and shoulder as he poured the scrambled eggs on the skillet.

A mumbled response was given, a question in the tone. Russia shook his head, almost causing the phone to drop. "No Ukraine, I don't want you alerting them just yet I-"

This time a sharp voices cuts in, voice shrill, making Russia wince and shift the phone.

"Belarus that's not why- put your sister back on please."

Russia listened patiently as Belarus gave her opinion on the matter. During her rant, he managed to cook the eggs successfully and now worked on toasted bread. He knelt down and opened his cupboard, taking out his ancient toaster that he hasn't used in who knows how many years.

Russia gave a sigh. "Yes Belarus, you may come over as well. Now can you please? Thank you."

A cheerful voice responded now as Russia brought up the toaster and set it on the counter.

"What?" Russia had just plugged it in when he froze. A hurried mummer was heard as Russia dug his nails into his palm. "I see. He's asleep right? Good. Make sure he doesn't follow if he wakes up as you get- No Ukraine, I'm not angry; it's your life now after all, I- Yes. You're welcome. See you in an hour."

Russia hung up and placed his cell phone down on the counter. He leaned back and rubbed his eyes. If only his younger sister would do him the favor of getting a boyfriend. This obsession was getting tiring.

Russia got out the plates and silverware and set up the table for four since he expected his sisters to arrive soon. The toast had just popped up when he heard a quiet cough come from behind him.

Russia turned to find America peering into the kitchen with his bed-sheets still wrapped around him. Russia had moved America into one of his many 'guest rooms' last night, finally. The couch was far too uncomfortable. A small part of him also wanted America in the room next to his, in case another nightmare occurred.

America was sniffing the air and stepped forward. "That smells so good!"

Russia chuckled and motioned for America to come in and sit, which America did promptly. "I'm glad you think so. I made scrambled eggs and toast for everyone."

America froze in grabbing the salt, "Everyone?" He then looked fully at the table and noticed the additional plates.

"My younger sister Bela-"Russia hastily cut off when he saw America wince. "My younger sister Natalya and older sister Katyusha are coming to visit today."

"Oh! Are they nice? Do they have your weird eye color as well? Do they have a funny accent like you?" America rushed out in a breath while he practically drowned his scrambled eggs in salt.

Russia blinked and then stole the salt back from America. "They are very nic- well my older sister is kind. My younger sister is sometimes difficult to deal with. No, they do not have my eye color. And yes, they both have accents, but not like mine."

"How come?" America asked with his mouth full, earning a grimace from Russia.

"Finish your food before you speak, Alfred. And because they speak a different language than me."

America greedily grabbed the glass full of orange juice and gulped it half down before setting it back down on the table.

"And what language do you speak?" America leaned forward, hands on top of the table as he leaned forward.

Russia bit the inside of his cheek and then met America's eyes, "Russian."

"Oh? Cool." America looked back down and began to eat again.

'Cool'? Russia let out a breath he had been holding unknowingly. Where was the taunting and teasing? The name calling and bickering? Russia silently watched America eat and no longer felt hungry. That's right, he didn't remember.

Just then the doorbell rang. A screech of a chair being pushed back made Russia look up startled.

"I'll get it!" America ran out of the kitchen.

What just happened? Russia's eyes widened before his brain finally caught up. Belarus! Russia bolted from his chair and dashed out the kitchen and down the hallway. He skidded to a stop just as America opened the screen door.

Ukraine seemed startled but recovered quickly, giving America a smile. Russia told her prior on the phone all about 'Alfred'.

"Hello. You must be Alfred. My name is Katyusha."

"Hi! And who are you, pretty lady?" America chirped, looking behind Ukraine.

Russia noticed his older sister shoot him a puzzled look before he focused his intention of America. He had told Ukraine to inform Belarus of America's condition as well, but as to her sticking with playing by the script, he didn't know.

Belarus glared at America (to be expected) and Russia was about to intervene when America moved closer and kissed his younger sister on the cheek.

"You should smile! Glaring hides your pretty face!" America laughed out.

Everyone stared at the American in shock. Belarus quickly got a hold of herself and stormed inside, a deep blush on her face. Russia turned and watched her vanish down a side hallway.

"Alfred, honey?"

Russia turned back around to see Ukraine kneeling on the hardwood floor, holding both of America's hands in her own. Her shot her a questioning look when she moved her gaze to Russia for a split second before looking back up at America.

America smiled at her while rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. "Yes?"

"Honey, how old are you?"

Russia gasped and took a step backwards; causing both of them to flick their eyes over before Ukraine cleared her throat and squeezed America's hands softly.

"Oh! I'm ten years old! Why do you ask? That seems like a silly question." America giggled.

Ukraine looked back over at Russia who had stiffened up. Ten years old?

Loud sounds of sirens blaring and a not-really-nineteen year old boy screaming out words of encouragement floated through the kitchen French doors from where America sat watching some random cop show in the living room. Around the table sat Russia, Ukraine, and a angry Belarus.

"Why does America think he is ten years old?" Russia echoed out in a hollow whisper.

"I-I'm not sure. For Mr. America to not only forget everything, but his true age as well….it's very odd. It has me extremely worried."

"As if that idiot wasn't already annoying, now he thinks' he's a human child?" Belarus hissed out, shaking her head in disgust.

Ukraine looked up from her blank stare at the table-top and reached out a hand to grasp Russia's upper arm. Russia looked up from his own pointless stare to see a stern look on his older sister's face.

"I'm sorry brother. I cannot allow America to be kept quiet now. I need to call Matthew and let him know of his brothers' condition. This is serious."

Russia gave a mute nod.

"Can I have you call England? We will start with just those two nations for now. We don't want every nation or even Mr. America's states to come rushing over to Moscow in a panic."

Russia nodded another silent response and then looked back down at the table. What in the world was going on with America?


	3. Chapter 3

**September 1st, 2010**

Russia nervously played with his scarf and waited for the other person on the line to pick up.

One ring

Two

Three

Finally on the fourth, a click sounded and a annoyed voice answered Russia.

"Hello England. This is Russia. We have an emergency." Russia stated, looking behind him at a sleeping America who was currently curled into a ball, legs sprawled on top of the covers.

The voice on the other end spoke in a distrusting tone. Russia let a heavy sigh out and ran a hand through his hair.

"It's America."

Russia pulled the phone back slightly as England started screeching, fear and worry in his voice.

"I can't explain over the phone. You are going to have to come over and see for yourself. Your hotel is close right?" A pause then "Very well, I shall see you in the morning. Canada will be here before you and my sisters are here as well."

Russia hung up before England could protest and turned away from the phone, watching America start to toss and turn.

* * *

"_I can't believe you would throw my people into your stupid wars! What the hell, England!"_

_America slammed his hands on the table, glaring across at a calm England sitting with a tea set in front of him. The china shook from the shockwave and England scowled up at America._

"_Do watch your temper, Alfred."_

_America let out a growl and looked up over at the mirror image of himself standing behind England. "What about you, dear brother? Going to start using my men for your battles with the Native Americans when things don't go as planned?"_

_Canada didn't flinch and stared back at America with narrowed eyes. "How's the rebuilding of your White House going?"_

"_Fuck you Mattie!" America slammed another fist on the table, causing a tea cup to fall off the edge of the table and shatter._

"_That's enough America! We are here to discuss a treaty. Isn't that right, Russia?" England looked over to the window where a tall man stood looking out at the softly falling flurries._

"_Yes. That's right. Calm down America, you two are supposed to be establishing peace."_

_Russia turned around and looked over at America, giving a genuine smile. His violet eyes twinkled with amusement and he tugged on his familiar crème scarf. _

**September 2nd, 2010**

Russia paced in front of the door. He was waiting for Canada now, the first to come over. His sisters were in the living room with America, playing checkers. Well, that is, America was playing checkers with Ukraine while Belarus sat on the couch watching.

Russia had woken in the morning around five and gone to check up on America but found him already awake, drawing a picture on no doubt some important documents he found in one of the desk drawers. Russia had gone over to see but America let out a startled noise and promptly sat on top of his drawing insisting that Russia could not see it. It was now two hours later and Russia prayed Canada would not be too angry with him.

After all…Russia felt a pang….he did hit America.

Russia was turning to start his tenth lap down the hallway when the buzzer went off. He froze, took a breath, and went to answer the door.

"Canada."

Canada stood on the doorstep with the most worried look he has seen yet, hands holding a medium sized bag tightly.

"Hello Ivan. Is he….is he awake?"

Unlike Russia, Ukraine informed Canada of America's 'condition' over the phone. Something Russia advised against, but Ukraine had insisted it would be better if his brother knew before-hand.

"Yes. He's playing checkers with my sister."

Russia stepped back and let Canada in, trying to peek into the bag as he passed by. Eyes widen as he spots America's old toys. They are from when he was still under British rule. He reached out and grabbed Canada by the hand, pulling him back.

"You aren't giving those to him, are you?" Russia asked in a panic.

Canada tilted his head in confusion. "Yes I am. He's just ten years old, in mind, right? I doubt you have anything here he could amuse himself with."

Russia dropped his hand from Canada's arm. He was right. He only had a checkers and chess set and that was it. But….

"Did my sister tell you about how you can't mention anything about us in front of him?"

Canada shuffled the bag to his other hand and gave a nod. "Yes. I'm troubled to hear this. Did he hit his head hard when you hit him?"

Russia shook his head quickly and looked to the ground. "I'm most certain he did not." Russia looked up and grabbed Canada's free hand, "I'm very sorry Matthew."

Canada smiled and patted Russia's hand. "It's fine. He was the idiot who walked in front of your car anyway. I will try to uncover what happened. Arthur as well, when he arrives. He might be able to help since he's been alive much longer than America or me."

"I very much hope so." Russia murmured.

Russia finally closed the door that had been left open in his haste to stop Canada, and guided him down the hallway to the living room. Both peeked in to see Ukraine smile as she took America's last checker piece.

"I win again, little Alfred."

America pouted and crossed his arms, "How do you win every time! Are you cheating Kat?"

Belarus grinned, "She doesn't have to, you're very easy to beat, brat."

America stuck out his tongue causing Belarus to give a disgusted look before she looked out into the hall.

"Brother!"

America looked over to see Russia and Canada stand awkwardly in the opening of the room. Russia watched America's eyes go wide with fright and he scrambled to the other side of the checkers board and hid behind his sister who gave a surprised cry. Russia glanced over at Canada quickly in shock and found the older brother had taken a step back and now had the bag clutched tightly against him in comfort.

"Alfred? This is, ah, your older brother, Matthew." Russia rushed out, trying to speak in a warm inviting voice.

America peered around Ukraine and looked Canada up and down. He opened his mouth slowly, closed it, then opened it again, "I know you."

Canada and Russia both glanced at each other, surprised and turned to look back at America.

"You-you do?" Russia asked, stepping into the room.

America nodded his head and came out from behind Ukraine just a bit. "I saw him in….in my dream!"

A flicker passed through Canada's eyes and he walked swiftly into the room and crouched down beside America.

"You dreamed of me, Alfred?"

Russia knew instantly Canada had made a mistake in his eagerness. He rushed in too fast. America flinched back before shooting up and running over to Russia. He hid behind the large nation, pressing his head against his back.

Canada looked over slowly, deep hurt showing in his eyes. Russia felt really bad for the northern nation, and tried coaxing America around.

"Alfred, that wasn't a very nice thing to do. He was just curious." Russia spoke softly.

America walked back around, but still kept a hand gripped on Russia's shirt sleeve, scooting in as close as possible. If America were actually the physical size he was mentally, it would have looked cuter perhaps, Russia mused, while looking down at the boy.

America looked down at the floor and mumbled something, too low to hear.

"What was that, Alfred? You need to actually look up and speak louder."

America looked up but averted his gaze from Canada. "I said he was angry at me in my dreams."

Canada took a shaky breath, "Why was I angry, Al?"

America looked back down and started flipping the carpet with his toe. He gave a careless shrug. "I don't 'member. I just remember your face and that you were angry."

"You really don't remember, Alfred honey?" Ukraine spoke up. Russia gave a jolt; he had almost forgotten his sisters were still in the room.

Alfred shook his head. "Nope, sorry."

Canada's shoulders drooped slightly before he straightened back up and stood up. He smiled at America, carefully hiding the sadness that Russia still knew was there.

"Can you tell me what you do remember, Al? How did you get here?"

America opened his mouth to reply when the buzzer sounded for a second time that day. America's mouth immediately shut and all five of them looked over at the hallway that led to the door. Loud knocking, more like banging, sounded on the front door, and Russia groaned.

"Who's that? So rude." Belarus wrinkled her nose.

"Open this bloody door right now Russia! Where's America!"

America winced in pain. Belarus looked sharply at America, her eyes narrowing. "Oh fun, just what we need, another mother hen."

Russia turned his head back around, "That is enough Natalya! Do not insult both En-Arthur and Matthew like that." Russia snapped.

Belarus met Russia's glare with one of her own. "I wasn't referring to Matthew."

"RUSSIA! OPEN THIS DOOR OR ON THE COUNT OF THREE I WILL DO SO MYSELF!"

Russia gritted his teeth, left the room, and marched down the hallway. He jerked the door open coming face to face with a very red-faced England. England glared at him before letting himself into Russia's house. Russia slammed the door shut and followed England who was stomping down the hallway like he was in a war rather than walking through somebody's home. America stepped suddenly out into the hallway, halting both England and Russia.

England's face broke out in relief and he grabbed America roughly, pulling him into a tight embrace.

"Thank god, America! I thought you were hurt or-"

America cried out and shoved England lightly, but it caused him to land hard on the ground and skid across the wood hallway before he was stopped by Russia's feet. He still had his abnormal strength it seemed.

'America…" England looked up at America with a hurt expression.

"Don't call me that!" America said, holding his head with both hands, "It hurts!"

England's mouth fell open. Russia grabbed England from under his arms and hoisted him up.

"There's something you should know Arthur…" Russia began.

They were now all back in the living room, even Belarus. Russia had rushed out in telling more or less the story (avoiding the 'hitting America with a car' and muttered that he just didn't have his memory anymore). America sat on the couch between Russia and Canada while Ukraine, Belarus, and England sat on the other across from them. The coffee table sat between, holding a tray of cookies and five cups of tea (America tried one sip in the kitchen and claimed it 'disgusting') made by England.

"We will start with the question Matthew brought up first, honey. How did you get here?" Ukraine gave a encouraging nod and a smile.

America started to fidget, tugging at his shirt. "Umm…I don't 'member that either. I just know from when I woke up on this couch and me-met Ivan." America leaned closer to Russia.

Russia noticed England's nostrils flare and his eyes narrow before the anger passed. Or was that jealously?

"How come whenever we mention our….other names, you feel pain?" Canada inquired.

America bit his lip. "I'm not sure….I just suddenly feel really sick. Sometimes I sense…" America shook his head, eyes scrunched in confusion. "Never mind. I don't know."

Sensed? Sensed what? That he was a nation?

"How about we fill in some blanks for you, then." Ukraine said, crossing her hands on her lap.

America smiled, "That sounds good!"

Everyone looked over at Russia. Russia gave a cough to clear his throat and gulped nervously. "Ah. Well, you see….I hit you with my car on my way home a few days ago. You just walked out into the street."

America's eyes widened and he sat straight up. "You…..ran over me?"

Russia looked away from America and locked eyes with England who had a look of horror on his face.

"Yes, I did. I'm very sorry."

America looked down at his lap and started swinging his feet. "No need to feel bad about it. I don't 'member feeling anything."

"YOU RAN OVER MY ALFRED!" England had shot up from his seat on the couch, pointing a shaky finger at Russia.

Before Russia could get on the defensive or feel more of an asshole, America interrupted them by letting out a giggle. England's face dropped all features of anger and he stared at America in confusion.

"Wh-what's so funny, Alfred?"

"Nothing!" America laughed out, "It's just, you look so funny all red in the face with your huge eyebrows pressed together!"

England's mouth dropped open a second time that day and a silence settled in the room. It was broken a few seconds later when Canada began to laugh. Russia was beginning to think he finally cracked, but Canada waved his hand and the laughter started to fade.

"I'm sorry about that, it's just that…" Canada turned to America and grinned at him, "he's still the same in how he treats you, Arthur."

England growled a warning and re-crossed his legs. "How peachy to know. It seems about right though. He was still under my care at that age!" England sniffed and glared at America.

"But you know…" America's mirror grin faded as he turned his head away from Canada and locked gazes with England, "you were also in my dream. I felt…hurt and sad…..also really angry. More so than I was with you." America said, looking back at Canada.

England looked from America to Russia and held a silent question in his eyes.

'What dreams?'

Russia offered a shrug.

"How about we take a break?" Belarus spoke up, startling everyone, "I can cook us some delicious pierogis." She got up and began walking out of the room but paused just out in the hallway and looked back with a cruel smirk on her beautiful face. "You know, real food."

England looked furious and opened his mouth to protest when he paused, watching America go and grab another cookie.

"I don't know why no one else is eating these cookies! I think they're awesome!"

Both Canada and Russia watched England's eyes fill with tears that threatened to spill over, and became alarmed. Canada stood up and went over to the bag he brought.

"Here Alfred, I brought you some things to play with." He waved a hand at America who stuffed one last cookie into his mouth before joining the northern nation on the floor.

"Wow! What!" America bounced up and down.

Canada pulled out the first thing his hand touched in the bag, which was a wooden toy soldier.

England shot up from the couch like a bullet and Russia was very confused why he looked so distraught.

"Why do you have his toys! I gave those to him!" England stuttered out.

Canada gave a guilty and sheepish look, "Alfred kept them in his basement, so I took them one day. I didn't want him to lose them forever."

America wrenched the soldier from Canada's hand and stared down at it.

'_Whoa, there's a lot of different soldiers in here. And they all have different faces!'_

'_Because it's specially made.'_

"England!" America cried out.

England, Russia, Ukraine, and Canada all whipped their heads to stare at America. Suddenly, America's eyes widened and he gasped. A split second later he slumped over, eyes shutting, toy soldier falling from his grasp.

"ALFRED!" Four voices cried out in panic.

* * *

_En__gland? Who's England?_

_Silence_

_Who am I?_

'_You're me, sweetie-pie!' A voice giggled._

_Who are you?_

_I'm you!_


	4. Chapter 4

_America paced back and forth near the refreshment table. Every few seconds he would glance up from his gaze on the floor and scan the ballroom, looking intently for someone._

"_Alfred." A chuckle sounded to his right._

_America glared up at Russia then pouted. "I don't see what's so funny about this, Ivan."_

"_I'm simply amused about how much you worry over this. You know she will come."_

_America stopped his pacing and leaned back against the table, hip brushing against the taller nations. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair._

"_I know, I know. That doesn't mean I won't stop fretting till then."_

_Russia placed a comforting hand on the small of America's back and pulled him into his side. America was tempted to lean into the touch, but thought better of it in the crowded ballroom._

_A cough sounded left of their position, and America and Russia both turned their head._

"_Looking for me Sweetie-pie?" A light bell-sounding voice laughed._

_America tensed slightly before a somewhat-forced smile stretched across his face. _

"_Amelia, so glad of you to join us." Russia extended his hand and Amelia reached forward to shake it._

"_Ah Ivan, you told my dearest little self that I wouldn't let him down, right?"_

"_I see you didn't drag England and France to this." America cut in with a smirk._

_Amelia's gaze slowly slid over to meet America's and she smiled sweetly. "I dare say they didn't want to linger with unpleasant company. You understand right?"_

_America's eyes narrowed in anger and he took a step forward. "Real funny Amelia. Maybe they just don't like you. I don't see them coming over to visit you."_

_Amelia's smile stretched into a grin. She didn't take the bait. "You're right Honey, they don't like you, do they? Does that hurt? They are so eager…." Amelia leaned forward until her mouth hovered next to Alfred's ear. "To see us split. Tear apart."_

_America jolted back, bumping into Russia. Amelia's face slipped for a second into a sorrow look before her brightly lit smile grew back in place. _

"_I think you should be leaving now, Amelia." Russia gave her an icy stare._

"_I'm going big guy!" Amelia turned and began walking away. She stopped just before she entered the crowd of party-goers and turned around to smile sadly at America._

"_Let me know, Sweetie-pie, when the pain becomes too much. I can help you."_

_America gave her a disgusted look as she turned her back and vanished among his people. He finally let go and choked back a scream as a rack of shudders caused him to collapse on the ballroom floor. _

**September 3rd, 2010**

Russia gently squeezed America's hand, staring down at the sleeping nation. It was a bleak eight am, and Russia, Canada, England, and Ukraine had spent all night beside America's bed, trying to come up with reasons on why he collapsed. They all at one point came to the thought that America may have gotten all his memories back, but it was too soon to tell.

"Must you hold his hand like that?"

Russia's eyes narrowed slightly and he turned his head to give England a sharp glare. Ah England. After America had fainted, he started screaming all sorts of oaths and curses at Russia, even at one point stating that the larger nation had poisoned America's cookie. Russia calmly reminded England that it had not been he who had made them. England fell silent for only a second before he started ranting about how America needs to be taken care of by an actual family member (pointing at himself) while Canada and Ukraine stood in the back, baffled and embarrassed.

"Yes, I must. He needs someone comforting to assure him everything will be fine when he wakes."

England gave a snort and moved from his spot in the desk chair over to sit on the other side of the bed, grabbing for America's other hand.

"You, comforting? That's a laugh."

Russia felt heat flare up into his cheeks and he grinded his teeth. "Don't insult me in my own home England. I can kick you out very easily. And not just from this house, but my country as well."

Russia was glad his sister and Canada had retired to their rooms for some sleep awhile ago. He did not want to seem like a bad person in front of them. He would gladly kick England's ass, as America would say, if not for the fact that that very nation was asleep in the room, and if woken, would not find it as amusing as he would.

England pursed his lips and glared at Russia.

"I-Ivan?

"Alfred!" Russia and England both shouted at the same time.

America was starting to sit up, the covers gripped lightly in his hands. His blue eyes widened however, when he found not only Russia sitting on his bed, but England as well, and he shrunk back down, covers held up just below his eyes. He looked so much younger and more vulnerable without his glasses.

Russia was the first to snap out of his gaze and gave a tentative smile.

"He-hello." America meekly said while staring at England cautiously.

"Do you remember what happened, Alfred?" Russia drew back America's attention with his softly spoken question.

"Not really….." America sunk lower under the covers as if it was a bad thing not to remember.

Russia and England both let out a sigh. "I figured as much." Russia reached out a hand and patted America's head. "But that's okay. I'm sure we will figure this all out soon enough."

"I'm sorry." America mumbled out, pulling the covers down to just below his chin.

"It's not your fault, lad." England insisted while brushing away Russia's hand to replace with his own. Russia shot him a glare which was promptly ignored.

"I…I just feel like I keep failing you guys. Whenever I try to remember, I get a-" America cut off and winced in pain. Russia and England's eyebrows shot up in alarm.

"Are you okay, Alfred?" Russia leaned forward.

"Yes." America nodded and looked down at the bedcovers.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in!"

Russia, England, and America looked over and saw Ukraine gently open the door.

"Breakfast is ready! We made pancakes, French toast, scrambled eggs, and toast."

"We?" Russia asked in amusement. Ukraine gave a blush and mumbled out Canada's name.

"Food!" America shot up to a straight sitting position and stared at Ukraine with bright eyes. He looked as if he expected her to magically present the food right then and there.

"Glad to see another thing hasn't changed about you. Still think with your stomach, hmm?" England mused, smiling at America who blushed and gave a weak glare back.

* * *

"Give me the syrup Mattie!"

"It's 'Please pass me the syrup' Alfred. Really now. Manners?" England stared down America until the young nation did as he was told. America stuck out his tongue, however, when England turned to answer a question Ukraine asked.

They were now all crammed together around the dining table, eating breakfast. Russia only had four chairs so he had to go and get two desk chairs from one of the guest rooms. America was happily devouring his six pancakes, four French toasts, two toasted bread, and a heaping of scramble eggs loaded with salt and pepper. It never ceased to amaze Russia on how much the younger nation could cram his bottomless stomach with. Belarus munched on her two French toast pieces daintily while occasionally shooting the unwelcome visitors a glare. England sat on the other side of America making sure to point out all the boys' faults, and Ukraine and Canada were engaged in a light conversation that brought blushes and shy glances at each other.

"Done!" America shouted a few minutes later. He hurriedly got out of his chair. "Mattie! Didn't you say you brought me some toys to play with!" America tugged at his brothers' sleeve.

"Ah, yes I did…" Canada was dragged from his chair and to the exit of the kitchen.

"Where do you think you are going? You need to clean your plate!" England called out.

Too late. America stole away Canada to his room, shouting a 'later fuzzy-brows' to a miffed England. Russia chuckled and went around the table picking up every ones dishes and bringing them over to the sink. Ukraine and Belarus helped while England took the condiments and put them away with help from Ukraine.

Ring!

Ring!

Russia set down a dry plate and hurried over to the cord phone on the wall, picking it up shortly.

"Hello? Ivan Braginski speaking."

Russia quietly opened the door to America's temporary room. He was greeted by the sight of America getting whacked in the face with a small wooden ball hanging off a string from a stick handle with a hollow round shape at the top. Canada sat next to him, grinning, and burst into a fit of giggles after the hit. America proceeded to smack Canada on the arm and tried again. No success.

"Canada? I need to speak with you for a moment."

America looked up with a confused look.

"It will only be for a few minutes, little one." Russia assured.

America wrinkled his nose and frowned. "Don't call me that. I'm ten years old, not three! Jeesh!"

Canada got up and exited the room. Russia closed the door and led the northern nation back to the kitchen, where everyone else was seated.

"What was that call about, Russia?" England stared intently at Russia, suspicion lurking in his eyes. Trust England to know what was up.

"As I'm sure you guessed, that was France on the phone." Russia went over to stand by the sink, facing the table.

"And….?" Belarus asked.

"And he was kindly reminding me to not forget my notes for tomorrows UN meeting."

Shocked gasps pierced through the air.

"Oh my god! The UN meeting! I forgot!" Canada choked out.

Russia nodded grimly. "I think we all did."

"That's why we're in this bloody country." England muttered out, earning a flash of silver from Belarus.

"What of America?" Ukraine murmured. "He's forgotten everything about who he is."

Russia grimaced. "We will just have to inform everyone of his condition. Perhaps they can help? The only thing I don't like about informing everyone is that then America's government will know."

England and Canada looked sharply at Russia. "That's good. Then they can take him back to his home and help him." Canada pointed out.

Russia frowned and England narrowed his eyes. "You thought to keep him here with you, didn't you?"

Russia blushed slightly and looked down at his feet. "Ah, not forever….."

"I can't believe you!"

Russia couldn't stop the heat spreading across his face and decided to leave to calm down. He wasn't in the wrong to help America out, of course not. It was the 'hero' thing to do, as America would say. Russia never got to spend much time with America these days anyways. He was so busy all the time. Hit with one crisis after another.

"I'm going to go check on America." Russia muttered, walking out of the kitchen.

"Oh no, you don't! I'm coming as well." England shouted, bolting from his chair and following after the larger nation.

Russia shot England a glare but didn't object. He knew England would come whether he wanted him to, or not. He reached the door to America's room and noticed it was silent. No noise coming from inside. That was odd…..had America fallen asleep from playing too much?

Russia quickly opened the door and started to walk in, but froze. England bumped into him and cursed out, but Russia didn't hear it. His eyes only focused ahead.

"Hey there, big guy!"


	5. Chapter 5

Russia shuffled back a few steps, bumping further into England. The shorter nation peeked around Russia and fell silent. Russia stared straight into shiny sea-blue eyes that twinkled in amusement. A smile curved upwards and a twirl of limbs.

"Don't just stand there gawking you two! Come on in, and shut the door! I don't want the others to know. It's a secret, okay?"

Russia turned numbly around to close the door, but found England doing it for him. England turned around and looked blankly at Russia, though his facial features shifted into a look of confusion. Most likely asking how he knew.

"Oh jeez! It's been forever Arty!" A peal of laughter let out as the sea-blue eyes locked onto green ones. They glanced over to meet Russia's puzzled violet ones and the smile turned into a grin. "Not that long for you though. Last time I saw you it was November, 1963, huh?"

"_He just collapsed after he saw. I had to come and help things! Ivan, help me!"_

"Of course." Russia breathed out, looking back into the mirror face with widened eyes. Of course _she_ is here now.

Amelia's face lit up as she took in Russia's expression. "Ah ha! I knew you would figure it out!"

England had been silently watching Amelia from his place near the bedroom door, but now walked up beside Russia and pointed a shaking finger at them.

"What the bloody hell are you two talking about!" England narrowed his eyes and set his sights on America's other half who was currently rocking back and forth on her heels. "Amelia!"

Amelia smirked at England. "That's my name!"

Before England blew up, Russia decided to cut in. "The last time I saw Amelia Jones was the day of President Kennedy's assassination. Alfred had collapsed after he saw it happen and she took over. She called me despite of our…relations at the time, and asked me to come and help get him back awake." Russia glanced over to see Amelia watch him with fondness. "Of course, when Alfred finally woke up, she had disappeared." Russia didn't add that she had left him to a very depressed and angry America who decided to lash out at the one 'enemy' in the room with him.

Amelia turned to England and grabbed his hands, holding them against her chest. She smiled kindly down at him (still taller).

"Of course, you know more or less of why I appear. After all, you saw me after the Triangle Shirt-waist Fire. He had collapsed after he learned his friend Betsy was killed." Amelia scrunched her nose and shook her head in distaste. Russia knew Amelia didn't like Alfred making close friends with his citizens. She said it was too risky.

England nodded at the memory and then glanced behind her to the bed where Alfred lay asleep. His eyes studied America too closely for Russia's liking, and he was about to say so when England gasped.

"But! But that doesn't make sense now! Shouldn't Alfred be himself when he's awake! Have all his memories?"

Amelia walked over to the bed and ran her manicured nails through Alfred's hair. "Yes….that would have been the case, had not Ivan hit him-" Russia felt his stomach clench tightly, "and his stress being so high."

"I keep telling that boy to get some rest…"England muttered, "he never listens!"

Amelia laughed, leaning down to kiss Alfred on the forehead. "You and I both, Arty! Remember what a pain he was during the Civil War?

England grimaced and looked down at the sleeping nation. He did, it seemed, although it was not a pleasant memory for him.

"Anyway!" Amelia straightened and walked back over to where England and Russia stood. "No need to worry! He should get his memories back in no time!"

"Are you sure, Amelia?" England bit his lip, flicking his gaze between Amelia and Alfred.

Amelia's eyes softened and she smiled, giving England a nod. "When have I ever been wrong, Arty?"

England gave her _the _look and she grinned in response.

"About the _real important_ stuff!"

"I suppose…."

"All right! Now go on and get! Tell the others!" Amelia pushed England over to the door, opening it and shoving the small nation out the door.

"What about-"

"I need to have a word with Ivan for a sec, okay? Bye!" Amelia slammed the door and Russia arched an eyebrow as she locked the door.

Amelia pressed one ear to the door, and after a few minutes, pulled away. England loved to eavesdrop on conversations. She turned around and stood facing Ivan, a serious look on her heart-shaped face. Russia finally had time to take in her appearance, and found out, with amusement, that she was wearing grey sweatpants and a too-big-for-her graphic t-shirt with the words 'I'm Lovin It' on the front. Obviously she had gone through Alfred's clothes his sisters had brought over the third day after the accident.

"Things are different, big guy."

"How do you mean?"

Amelia held a finger to her lips in a quiet motion and went to stand right against Russia. Russia felt himself blush as she stood up on the balls of her toes, pressing further into Russia as she went to cover his ear with her hands. Her warm breath fanned against his skin and he was about to pull away when her whispered words caused him to still.

"A-are you sure?" Russia stuttered out, eyes shooting over to watch the sleeping nation.

"I'm almost positive. That's why it ticks me off." Amelia scowled, narrowing her eyes at Alfred. Her face split into a grin after a second. "However! It's kind of cute, if I'm right!"

"What?" Russia breathed out, heat flooding his body. Did the temperature go up in the room?

"You guys are very close! I know_ I've_ had a crush on you, big guy!" Amelia winked at Russia and walked back over to the door.

"Now out! Alfred's about to wake up and you need to go get Arty! You guys have a 'problem' about the meeting tomorrow right?"

Russia gave a meek nod, mind still reeling with the new information.

"Well then, do me a favor and remind Arty about his wand. I think he will know what to do!" Amelia skipped over to Russia and kissed him on the cheek, not helping his current state at all.

"See you later cutie!"

* * *

After Amelia slammed the door a second time, Russia made his way back to the kitchen to find everyone arguing. They all stopped as he entered, and England almost seems to glare daggers at him.

"What did she need to tell you?" England said with a hint of jealousy in his voice.

Russia narrowed his eyes. "None of your business. However, she told me to remind you about your…umm, wand. She said it might help for this situation.

England's eyes went round as saucers and he let out a huge smile. "Of course! That's my girl!"

"She isn't yours." Russia gritted out. England did not hear, or chose not to hear, for he had already started to exit the kitchen and walk down the hall to America's room. Everyone quickly followed. They all shuffled into the room to see England shaking America awake.

"Wha? What is it?" America blinked his eyes open and immediately shrunk to see five pairs of eyes on him.

"What's going on? Ivan!"

Russia stepped forward but held back from going over to America. America's eyes flickered for a split second into surprise before his attention was snatched away by England.

"I know a solution! I can turn you physically into a ten-year old with my magic!"

America gasped and looked fearful in an instant. He snapped his open mouth closed and scrunched his eyebrows.

"Magic? There is no such thing!" America gave a weak laugh, flicking his gave back to Russia. Russia smiled at him.

"Of course there is, you dolt! It's just only that..ah, a select few can wield it!" England beamed down at America and suddenly a wand popped into existence into the air. It fell but England managed to catch it. He twirled it in his hands before pointing it straight at the younger nation.

"Now just hold still for a second."

"No way!" America sprung up out of bed in fear, but it was too late.

A bright light flashed, casting the whole room in neon green. A loud popping noise was heard before a bang, releasing heavy white smoke into the room. Russia, his sisters, and everyone else began coughing. Russia became worried and waited for the smoke to clear. It would be his luck that England's spell would go wrong and they would find America turned into a fat cat or some other animal.

"Alfred?" Russia called out, moving around to the other side of the bed where America fell off.

A tiny cough sounded and Russia looked down and blinked.

"Are you some crazy person! What the hell did you do, throw down a smoke bomb or something?"

America stood up, his tiny face scrunched in anger. He jolted and looked down to see his previous worn jeans a puddle at his feet and the t-shirt hanging on him like a dress. His glasses, having already been off, wouldn't have been able to fit him. For England's spell had worked.

"Why are you so tall?" America exclaimed.

Well, sort of. America was physically about six rather than his 'mental state' of ten.

"Oh my god! Al!" Matthew rushed over to America and crouched down, giving him a hug. America squirmed and pushed back. Russia smirked, he wasn't using his true strength.

"Alfred! My boy!" England rushed over and tugged America away from Canada, hugging him in what was possibly a squeeze of death. America spluttered and blushed but gave in to his former charges embrace.

Russia looked back to see how his sisters took it and saw both of them with identical smiles. Belarus even had a faint blush.

"Oh my gosh! He's so adorable!" Ukraine gushed out.

Looks like the meeting would not be total chaos at America's 'condition', it would be a complete disaster.


	6. Chapter 6

**September 4th, 2010**

"Alfred! Come back here right now, young man and put these clothes on!"

America giggled, running out of his temporary room and running right into Russia who locked hands around America's small wrists and stared down at him.

"Alfred. Causing Arthur stress already today, hmmm?" Russia stared deeply into America's eyes trying to find that- ah! There it was. America tried yanking his arms out of the Russians grip.

"Arthur wants' me to put on these really weird clothes. They look like they're from the 1700's or something!"

"Oh really?" Russia smiled and dragged America back into the room to find England staring down at the bed that had America's old colonial outfit her wore as a child spread out.

"This outfit could still work today." Russia cheerfully announced. He leaned down to meet America's ear, watching from the corner of his eye with amusement England narrowing his eyes. "Funny that you gave a specific time period, though."

America jolted and violently ripped his wrists from Russia's grip and blushed crimson. He ran over to England and punched him lightly on the arm. "Okay! I give up, Arthur. I will wear the stupid outfit."

"What did Ivan say to you, Alfred?" England ignored America's statement and stared with interest over America's head up at Russia.

Russia grinned back. "It's nothing that concerns you."

America didn't look back at Russia but shook his head. "He was just wondering why I thought this outfit was from the 1700's. But I watched an old movie on TV yesterday about early America! A young boy had on a similar outfit. Wouldn't it be neat to live back then?" America finally turned around and smiled up at Russia.

Russia narrowed his eyes.

"Ah perhaps so. Though a bad time for…umm."

America spun back around and held a hand up to his mouth. "Oops! I'm sorry! I forgot America kicked your countries butt back then. That war for freedom or something, right?"

Russia saw England flinch and watched as he stood up quickly.

"Yes. I need to go make a phone call. Please get dressed Alfred." England brushed past Russia and exited the room.

"That wasn't very nice, Alfred."

America looked up from the clothes and stared at Russia, his wide eyes lit up in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean."

Both of them stood gazing at each other for silent minutes before a knock at the door sounded.

"Yes?" America chirped up.

"Oh! Alfred dear, it's time to go." Ukraine announced through the door.

* * *

It was decided two cars would be used to take them all to the UN meeting. While Belarus, Ukraine, and Canada went into Canada's small car, England, Russia, and America crammed into Russia's car. America immediately turned on the radio and attempted to find a channel in English. Since they were, however, in Russia, he gave up and settled for the Classical music channel. England in the backseat was silent throughout the car ride and the only noise besides the radio was America humming along to the music.

After twenty minutes of driving, they finally arrived in downtown Moscow to the building hosting the UN. Russia parked the car across from the building and they all got out. England started walking briskly to the building with a shouted 'come along now, Alfred'. Russia looked down beside him to see America looking uneasy, eyes flickering between numerous countries faces.

"What's wrong Alfred?"

America fisted his hands and began walking forward. "Nothing."

"They are just….representatives from the countries of the UN. It's nothing to be nervous about. They won't touch you." Russia chuckled.

America's face split into a smile and he grinned up at Russia. "I know. You got my back, right Ivan?"

'_Don't worry! You got my back, right Russia! We'll give the Germans hell!'_

Russia only faltered for a mille-second before he gave a answering smile and marched forward up to the UN doors. Wouldn't he always?

As soon as they entered they were greeted by England, Canada, Ukraine and France. France's eyes widened upon seeing America and he rushed forward. America let out a squeak and hid behind Russia.

"Alfred! I'm sure you do not remember me, the tragedy, but I am your oldest brother! Has Arthur been force feeding you his horrid creations?"

England let out a noise of protests and smacked France on the head. America chuckled and came out from behind Russia.

"No. Ivan and Matthew have been making our meals."

"Oh. What a blessing!" France shot Russia a suspicious look before smiling down at America. "Come now Alfred, you can sit by me in the meeting."

Russia, England, and Canada had come up with a plan that they later told France that maybe if they let him sit in at the meeting, he might get his memories back. America looked nervously up at Russia but reached up and took Frances's hand. Russia watched him go through the doors to the meeting room before turning to his sister.

"Where is big sister?"

"She is already in the meeting." Ukraine answered.

"All right. Let's go in then."

Russia, Ukraine, and Canada were the last ones to enter. As they entered the room, they were greeted with the sight of almost every nation crowded around America's chair and jabbering a mile a minute about his condition. This was going to be a long day.

* * *

"This concludes this month's UN meeting. Now will all you please exit the room swiftly and calmly and no one better go bug Alfred!" Germany barked out his last order while shuffling his papers back into his folder.

North Italy shot up from his chair beside Germany and gave the broad nation a pat on the back for a job well done and helped gather his papers. South Italy stood up from beside his brother, flashed Spain a dark look, and stormed out of the room.

"But Romano! I was just wondering what he would look like in your old outfit! I wasn't going to put him it!" Spain cried out after, racing out of the room to catch up to South Italy.

Japan shook Greece awake and they both stood silently to leave, a fuming Turkey stalking behind them. Japan paused at America's chair and gave the small boy a nod and smile before he was dragged off by Greece.

Slowly but surely all the other nations exited the meeting room until it was just Russia, England, France, Canada, and America.

"That meeting was so boring! Well, Kiku's part about his toy production was neat, but still pretty boring. I feel sorry for you guys. Do you always have to do these?" America exclaimed, spinning the chair around.

Several faces fell and England bit his lip, trying to hold his disappointment. "Ah. Yes. But it's very serious and important work to help bring peace to all nations."

America nodded his head in agreement. "You should get a hero for that!"

Canada chuckled and held out his hand. "That might be a bit hard to do, Alfred. Come on, we can stop by Mickey D's on the way back to Russia's house."

America started to eagerly reach his hand to meet Canada's before another shot out and took it. America looked up in annoyance at Russia.

"May you all please leave for a few minutes? I need to speak to Alfred about something."

England opened his mouth to protest but France covered it with his hand and nodded. "Of course you may. Everyone?"

America looked up at Russia in confusion as everyone exited the room. The doors snapped closed and the empty room was deathly silent.

"So…ah. What did you want to talk about, Ivan?"

Russia stared down at America with a piercing gaze.

"Alfred F. Jones. Do not play this game with me."

America's eyes went wide with fear. He shot up from his chair and started to run to the door. Russia had anticipated this and was two steps ahead of him. His large arms shot out and he grabbed America around the waist, lifting him into the air up against his chest.

"LET ME GO BRAGINSKI! THIS INSTANT!" America screamed out, kicking his tiny legs and scratching at Russia's arms.

"How long, America?" Russia whispered into the tiny nation's ear.

America ceased all fighting and went limp. "Ho-How did you know?"

Russia chuckled. "Along with the few hints here and there, Amelia told me."

Russia went over to an empty chair and sat down, shifting America so that he was sitting in his lap, facing him. America fidgeted in discomfort, a blush coming to his small face.

"Why?" Russia breathed out, trying to search for the answer in America's eyes.

America froze then buried his head against Russia's chest. He mumbled something.

"What have I told you about your mumbling, America?"

America looked up at Russia with a weak glare, his eyes moist. "Not strong enough anymore."

"What nonsense is this?" Russia snapped.

"At first, it really was Amelia who had taken over. She had me purposely get run over by you. Very painful and I was fucking glad she also felt that." America growled out. "She was very worried for me. I hadn't slept in over a week, working on a lot of paperwork. But when I was thrown back in control of my mind and body again when I remembered Iggy's toy soldier…and woke up…..I realized."

America bit his lip and looked down at Russia's lap. "I realized I wanted to keep pretending to be oblivious. This recession is very hard. I'm tired all the time and all the wars my country is fighting in. It's exhausting. I'm no longer following a 'hero code' as I used to back in the day. I need…"

America's eyes finally squeezed shut tightly, tears spilling over the edge, "I'm not you, Russia. I can't keep that poker face on all the time. I'm not strong enough."

Russia wrapped his arms around America and brought him closer. "You had me pretty fooled during the 50's."

"That was different!" America shuddered out. "I knew you; mind and body. But the world today is confusing. I can't anticipate Iran's moves. His mind is an electric fence that won't shut off. It's hard to keep a poker face when he rips my emotions out from me. And his boss is fucking pissing me off avoiding direct questions."

Russia gave a heavy sigh and dug in his pocket, pulling out a red handkerchief which he used to wipe away America's tears. "May I remind you the Cold War had these same factors as well. But yes, I was your good friend before that so you knew me a little better. Iran is a fool. You need not waste your energy fighting him toe to toe. Stand back and observe him before you make a move." Russia leaned down, his face directly in front of America's. "A game of chess, you see." He chuckled out.

America gave a sniff and looked down, a blush flooding his cheeks. "A hero always needs a sidekick though."

Russia's eyes widened slightly before he smiled warmly. "Not the villain anymore?"

America shook his head and pecked Russia on the lips shyly. Russia tightened his hold around America's small waist. "Good."

Russia then kissed America gently. A crack sounded before the doors swung open. A heap of bodies spilled on to the floor of the meeting room. Canada, England, France, Ukraine, Japan, Hungary, and China looked up startled. Hungary broke the silence by letting out a squeal of delight. Japan raised his camera but England snatched it from him.

"Don't you dare Japan! He's just a child!" England was the first to stand and he looked positively murderous. "You are in so much trouble America. I can't believe you!"

America's face drained of all color and he looked up at Russia in panic. "You've got my back, right Russia?"

Russia smirked and kissed America's forehead.

"I Can't help you here."

* * *

That's it! End of this fanfic! I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did writing it!


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